Once A Love
by WeirdAnimeChick
Summary: Azuki asks to see Mashiro, but their dreams have not yet been fulfilled, scarring the artist as always, but his girlfriend has a good reason! Besides, Mashiro would do anything for her. Anything. Too bad she doesn't seem to think the same. ShujinXSaiko.
1. Chapter 1

Time seemed to slow for Mashiro as Azuki stood before him; fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Um…" she started, casting quick glances up at him before completely averting her eyes. It was only the third time they had seen each other since high school. "I think…" her amber eyes locked with his, embarrassment and guilt strewn through them.

Oh no.

* * *

Only a week ago had Takagi and Mashiro working on a one shot, something they were planning to submit for another award hosted by one of Shonen Jump's many magazines and, as always, due to complications they would end up working right until the due date.

_Azuki_, Mashiro started, e-mailing his girlfriend about their recent, sleep absorbing, endeavour. _Shujin and I are trying our best to win the next award. Always working hard to be with you! 3_

Mashiro was well aware of how embarrassing the message was but, to him, Azuki was worth it. The artist smiled as he set down his phone and picked up his inking pen for he had no time to waste.

Not a moment later the phone rang, signifying that his love had responded.

_Do your best! Mail me as soon as you are done!_

Mashiro smiled, setting down his pen and leaning back in the chair that his uncle had once occupied. Azuki; cute and determined, always quick to respond, and always encouraging him onward. Who could ask for a better girlfriend? The mangaka certainly didn't, both surprised and still ecstatic that his crush had agreed to see him at all!

Yes, so naive and so fanciful was Mashiro that he didn't bother to question his crush's mail, not curious as to why she might have wanted him to contact her after he had finished drawing instead of after the results for the award came in. No, the artist was too busy with their dream, plans for the future, and – of course – the most pressing matter of finishing Shujin's and his current project. Lots to do and little time to do it in, just as it always was with the two friends.

Mashiro slid his phone to the far side of his desk, picked up his pen and dipped it into the ink. The nib slid across the rough paper, tracing over the graphite lines with ease and honed precision.

Yes. Nothing could break this spell of happiness that had washed over his life. Nothing.

* * *

A/N: Re uploading CH:1 for a noticed a few things wrong with it...oops~


	2. Chapter 2

"Saiko!" Takagi called as he stepped back into the studio, unable to wipe the smile off his face because of the papers that he had in his hand. Last night, with Kaya asleep, he had stayed up all night, too giddy to settle into their lush bed and sleep.

The blonde padded his way into the main room where the Mashiro sat, the scratching his G pen enough to fill the homey place as well as lull Takagi back into a sense of nostalgic normality.

"Hey." The author greeted out of habit, aware that Mashiro was running on little sleep and wasn't likely to answer when the only reason he was continuing was thanks to their years of practice, the motions engraved into his muscle memory. Takagi smiled and softly made his way over to where his half-asleep partner continued to trace the pencil lines. Lightly the blonde pressed against the end of the pen, lifting it off the page so that he could wake the other teen without the page being ruined. "Saiko." He called into the others ear, jostling him with his unoccupied hand.

"What!" Mashiro shot back in his chair, whipping his head around to look fully at the intruder only to find familiar eyes smiling down at him. The artist sighed in relief settling back properly into his chair as he glared half-heartedly towards his partner. "Shujin! What if I had ruined the page!" he nearly shouted, examining the page he didn't quite remember working on.

"You need a break." Takagi responded grinning as he prodded Mashiro's shoulder, trying to get him out of the work chair and to the couch where he could sleep.

"No." the artist shook his head, dipping the nib of his pen back into the ink and finding the next place that needed ink.

A hand blocked the page, meaning that black ink started to seep into Akito's skin rather than the page. Mashiro followed the appendage up until he saw the blonde's face, noticing that it was marred with a frown and furrowed eyebrows. "How many?"

Takagi did not even have to use specifics in his question, both half's of Ashirogi Muto knew exactly what he was talking about. Mashiro did not wish to answer the question, not even sure _how_ to answer the question, for the number of nights and days he had failed to sleep all seemed to blur together into a single amalgamation of seconds that wouldn't be distinguished from minutes that smeared into hours and those into days. Needless to say, the artists couldn't even say when he had last _eaten_ with confidence.

The blonde didn't wait for his answer however and merely silenced him with a stern and finite "Up." Saiko did as he was told and allowed the other to steer him towards the couch where a blanket and pillow were stationed for just such an occasion. "There." Takagi ordered, pushing the other gently onto the couch and suppressing a chuckle as he watched the artist all but collapse onto the pillow, not even bothering with the blanket.

"Nn, wh't 'bout the name?" he mumbled sleepily, prying one of his eyes open to fix Takagi with a look.

He laughed awkwardly, blushing slightly as he turned away from Mashiro and scratched the crest of his cheek lightly. "I came here to finish it, you won't have anything else to do until I finish it, so just sleep until then, alright?" the author prayed that he sounded convincing and he chanced a glance back over to where his partner lay on the couch only to find his eyes closed and breathing deeply.

Takagi smiled down at his friend, feeling his chest swell just by seeing how cute Mashiro was when tired to the point of a deep and untroubled sleep. He shook himself out of the light trance and hurriedly turned away from the artist, striding over to Mashiro's desk and set down his revised and completed name.

Takagi slumped into the chair, still warm with residual body heat and cast his eyes around the room. The blonde's mouth dropped as he saw the room as Mashiro, the couch that was usually occupied by someone sleeping or a guest or assistant waiting for work, the shelves of manga surrounding him in a never-ending spiral of great mangaka's mocking him with serialization and superior talent and plots, even the desk itself looked completely different from this spot. The author let out an awed breath as he stared down at the wooden workspace; here everything had its place, not like how the books on the shelves had theirs, but something completely unique to this desk, only to Mashiro's tools. The atmosphere instilled within him the need to work. And work he would.

Takagi snatched up his prose and a pen – used more for writing than manga – as he leaned back into the chair and started making corrections almost immediately. The blondes lips curled up into a smile as he worked, suddenly glad Mashiro had been too tired to see something that could have only been improved, and happy that he could share the muse that Saiko used to always work so hard.

Yes. Together, with their wooden desk, mocking predecessors, and unrivaled bond, they could win the award and get an anime. With this, they would overcome any limits that had been restricting them. With this, they would become Ashirogi Muto.

* * *

A/N: Does anyone else notice how it makes no sense for Takagi to be finishing the name and Mashiro is already inking pages? Yeah. Three years later and I finally did. Maybe we can play it off as them working on something else and not their one-shot? I don't know.

Plot holes aside, hope you enjoyed it anyway.

-WAC


	3. Chapter 3

The deadline had come and gone, Mashiro falling asleep almost immediately after handing in their manuscript, they were still on the train home, his head lolling onto Takagi's shoulder as nights of sleepless work finally took over his body. The blonde resisted petting the other's hair and instead clenched his hands in his lap, staring straight out the window, a soft blush colouring his cheeks as he tried to ignore the warmth of the other and the prying eyes of others riding in the same cart.

"Saiko." The author called softly, turning to the other male as they passed the stop before Mashiro's. "Hey." He prodded at the other's cheek, only succeeding in having the bluenette shuffle so that he was leaning on the seat and not the blonde.

Said blonde sighed, standing and prodding at the teen. "Mashiro…Saiko…hey, Saiko!" he implored, begging the other to get up as they neared his stop. "It's you're stop, Mashiro!" Takagi tried, starting to shake the other with an almost needy vigor.

The doors on the train closed and Takagi sat down, defeated by Mashiro's need to sleep. He sighed, ignoring the eyes that were still on him. The writer slumped in his seat, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he tried to figure out where to go from here.

The train jerked away from the station and almost immediately started on a corner, shoving the sleeping manga artist right into him, causing them both to sprawl across the seat. "Huh?" the bluenette spluttered intelligently.

The blonde huffed a little irritate, pushing at Mashiro who was stopping the other from sitting back up straight. "You were asleep." He tried to not let his exasperation enter his voice.

"I'm sorry!" Saiko apologized, quickly fumbling his way back into his own seat and sitting perfectly as if trying to act like the whole thing had never occurred. Takagi would have believed it too had an embarrassed blush not been splayed across the bluenette's cheeks. "That was rude of me." He glanced out the window before staring back at his hands.

Mashiro did a double take.

"We're…" he nearly whispered, staring out at the scenery he knew came after his station, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. There was a reason Takagi was the writer.

"Passed you're stop." The blonde finished for his friend. "Yeah, I know." He leaned back into the seat, grinning towards the other who couldn't see him.

"Then…why didn't you wake me?" Mashiro asked, turning to face the other male, his mouth feeling a little dry, he had figured that Takagi would have awoken him in such a situation.

"I tried." He explained simply. Takagi had always had a way with words.

"Oh…" Mashiro sat back down properly, looking at his friend for only a moment longer, thinking of the fastest way he could get back home to sleep off the work he had neglected himself for.

"Just stay over." Caramel eyes watched the other carefully as he formed the words, marveling at how the bluenette's face melded into a shocked expression. "We both need sleep and the last thing I need is for my manga artist getting kidnapped from a train or catching a cold for sleeping in such a place." He turned to the other, grinning. "After all, it's you're drawings that I love." Takagi's mouth was dry as he said this, the fear of such a thing happening crawling under his skin and setting into his mind as worry and fear over the other's safety, the last thing he wanted was to be unsure of Mashiro's well being.

"Thanks." Came the other's simple and tired response, probably too exhausted to even want to switch trains. "But won't Miyoshi mind?" his smile was small and the train jostled them constantly, blurring it in the image reflected in the author's glasses.

The blonde batted his hand in dismissal. "She's out visiting Azuki." He said, clipped, getting up as they neared the top close to his house. "C'me on." He urged, extending a hand and a smile to the tired artist.

"'Kay." Mashiro yawned, taking the other's hand and offer and hurrying off the train to start on their walk.

The mangaka's strode in silence, being both too tired and too engulfed in thought to strike up conversation with the other. When they got to the blonde's apartment, Takagi fished out his keys, unlocking the door and allowing them inside, nearly falling in with the door as Mashiro's cell phone jingled loudly, signifying a text.

_Congratulations on completing the manuscript! Best of luck :) Meet me tomorrow?_

_-Azuki_

The door closed behind Mashiro as the bluenette started toeing off one of his shoes. "WHAT!" he yelled in shock, eyes wide at the message. He started shaking.

"Sh…Shujin…" he stuttered, eyes never leaving his phone.

The blonde was by his artist's side in an instant, peering over the bluenette's shoulder to try and read the mail on the shaking device. His eyes bugged out too, covering his mouth with his hand to cover the gasp that tried to worm it's way from his throat.

"Saiko..?" me muffled out, watching as the other finally looked away from his cell and stumbled into the hallway, collapsing against the closest wall. "Are you okay?" he removed his hand, stepping cautiously over to the artist, squatting to become level with the teen.

Without answering Saiko brought his phone up to his face, his knees following soon after, and behind his little barrier, the artist started typing back on his phone, his eyes determined, though still shaky.

"Saiko?" the blonde tried again, dropping to his knees and trying to position his face into the other's line of vision. "Mashiro?" he called instead. "Hello?" Takagi was getting a little desperate now with the bluenette awake and not answering him.

Deep, blue eyes traveled from the phone to Takagi's face, only wavering when they registered the worry shining in the other's orbs. "I'm not sleeping am I?" he whispered, trying to keep the hush that had settled over the room.

Both boys jumped as Mashiro's phone sang, reminding them of origin of this situation.

The bluenette flipped his cell open, reading the message swiftly. Then again. Then slower, until he finally stopped, not responding, and merely shutting the device before staring into Shujin's doe eyes with the same kicked-puppy worried look.

"Shujin?" it was his turn to ask about the other's silence now. "Right?" it looked as if Mashiro was begging him not to punch him in the face, but the urge the blonde had was quite the opposite, longing to embrace the other's sorrow away, not cause it.

"Right." The author agreed, looking down at his wooden floor instead of his best friend, unable to take the pained look across his face. "You're awake right now."

"Damn.." Takagi was shocked at the other's irreverent choice of words but wasn't given time to completely process the other's spoken thought because the bluenette was up and moving further into his house only a moment later.

The cell phone was stuck in Mashiro's hand, re-opened and autocorrecting the characters to fill it with the correct words.

Takagi stood, following the bluenette down the hall and directing him to their living room where he let the other find a seat as the blonde made his way to their kitchen to prepare some coffee, already knowing the other's preference on the matter.

When he returned with two mugs of the steaming beverage Saiko's cell phone was sitting on the table, sitting still, copying its owner who was doing just the same on the couch.

"What is it?" the blonde asked, pressing the cup into the other teen's hands.

"Azuki, she wants to meet me tomorrow."

Takagi nodded, already knowing this information and urging the other to continue on.

"She said that she needs to talk about our promise." Mashiro continued, no inflection in his voice, the mug trembling in his hand.

"Who knows," Takagi smiled falsely, injecting that same facade into his words. "it could be that she wants to get married sooner." The blonde sat down next to the artist, waiting for a response.

The bluenette shook his head. "I don't think that's it." He admitted, looking into his knees and curling himself into a ball. "Read." He gestured to his cell phone, still silently waiting on the table.

Shujin picked up the device, flipping it open and finding his way into the inbox where he noticed that Azuki had only sent him four messages.

We need to see each other

It is too important to wait for our dreams

Because it is the promise that we need to talk about

1:00 at Kikukawa station.

The blonde looked up from the messages, staring at his best friend who was watching him analytically. Takagi swallowed hard, chuckling nervously as he stalled for time on what to say to the other; it did sound bad with how diligent the girl had always been with keeping their promise alive. "Maybe she wants to see you more, maybe on special occasions." He suggested, shrugging when he saw the skeptical look Mashiro was still giving him.

Takagi swallowed thickly. "Well you won't know unless you see her right?" he offered a smile towards the artist who sighed in return and looked away.

"I'm tired." he finally replied with, setting his untouched mug on the table and readying himself to stand, staying seated as he realized that he had no place to go sleep. Mashiro's deep blue eyes sent a lasting side-ways stare at his partner, silently imploring him to get up too.

Shujin complied, standing and setting his own cup down with a light sigh. "Come on then." He motioned for the other teen to follow him as the blonde stepped through his silent home and towards his and Miyoshi's bedroom. Takagi gestured to the bed. "Pick a side."

Mashiro sent his partner a strange look. "You don't have a futon?" he nearly bit his tongue as soon as he had said it, it wasn't polite when Shujin was offering up his bed to him. Still, from the way it sounded, the blonde was going to have them share the luxurious bed.

"No." hurt flickered through his soft eyes for a moment before a false grin spread across his face. "We need to get serialized for me to have enough to do something like that." The blonde laughed lightly, Mashiro joining in, finding it strangely funny that his promise with Azuki still affected others just as much.

The bluenette sighed his surrender with a small smile on his face, walking around to the farther side of the bed and shuffling himself under the covers, changing could wait for sleep, it always did on days like this.

Shujin smiled, crawling in on the other side of the furniture, taking off his glasses but, like the artist, he forwent pajamas. "To another attempt at our dream." He smiled at the blob next to him, noticing that Mashiro had decided on his usual side.

The bluenette smiled back at Shujin in the dark, wondering if the writer could even see it properly without his glasses.

The plush mattress molded around them comfortably, the drapes pulled to not let in natural light and the bluenette's eyes grew tired, he was so very tired. "Shujin," he mumbled out, tapping the other's cheek to ensure the other's tired attention. "the light.." Mashiro managed with a small laugh, causing the other to groan.

Takagi pulled his hands out from under the swiftly warming blankets and, instead of shuffling out of bed like the artist had expected, he merely clapped twice, plunging them into darkness.

"Nice." Mashiro yawned; rolling over and closing his eyes in comfort and noticing that the sheets, strangely enough, smelled just like the other teen.

"Yeah."

Silence permeated the air and the artist's breathing evened out, indicating his sleeping state. Takagi rolled over, closer to his side of the bed and the boy who was occupying it. He debated placing a hand on the other's shoulder or waist but ultimately just lay there, closer than need be and loving the heat he could feel permeating off of the other's body, heat that absorbed into the sheets and surrounded them both in a haven of warmth.

Takagi's mind continued to race as his heavy eyelids started sliding shut. Mashiro was defiantly important to him, he didn't want the bluenette hurt. He knew these things. The blonde sighed into the warmth. He knew these things and so much more. What if Azuki wanted to break up? What if she wanted to get married now? What if she wanted them to quit on their dreams and focus on their 'us'?

So many situations, scenarios, and paths their life could take, so many that _his_ could too. And so, with the world spinning in his mind, a route he had thought too much about at his fingertips, and the possibility of either a bridge burning or opening being revealed tomorrow, Takagi too, fell asleep next to what could only be his future. Because manga would always be his future. Ashirogi Muto would always be his future. _Mashiro_ was always going to be his future.

That much he knew for sure.

* * *

A/N: At last, something of a respectable length! Some of my better works as of late, I hope I can ride this rhythm out into something good. I'm on a couple weeks break for exams so between studying and the like I'll try to get some more like this out. I'm trying a new thing where I stock up on three chapters so I can update even if I don't feel like writing.

Ideas, critique, comments, questions? You know what to do ^^


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning had the two teens hurrying about, Mashiro being late for his meeting with Azuki. An alarm would have been good. It's a pity that neither half of their manga team had realized that before they were overcome by sleep.

"How do I get to the train station?" Mashiro yelled, nearly running into the door as he tried to open it and hurry out of it.

Takagi was right behind him, his shoes half on as he accidentally bumped into the artist, who had stopped, realizing his lack of footwear.

It took nearly 20 minutes for them to leave and make it, panting, to the station, the two teens wildly searching the platform for an indication of where to catch the train, forgetting such details in their haste. They paused, moving to the side of the crowd awkwardly as they both realized that Shujin wasn't to be boarding.

"…Thanks." Mashiro said, looking away from the blonde, recalling last night; how the author had been so kind to him, the way he pictured Azuki to be when they were married, their dreams fulfilled. "For last night." The bluenette wondered what Takagi must think of him now, last nights emotional roller coaster had sent the artist for a loop, and no doubt Shujin was wondering about his stability as well as being silently glad that they had finished their newest one shot before it had happened.

Takagi opened his mouth before realizing that he hadn't a word to say to his partner before closing it and nodding, a small smile on his lips. Mashiro was acting with more clarity now and the blonde couldn't help but be thankful, he couldn't help but be worried when the bluenette, usually so strong and determined, crumbled before him.

Saiko cast a quick glance back up to his friend, a determined smirk materializing in the light of his friends; he could take whatever Azuki had to throw at him. With a short wave Mashiro disappeared back into the crowd, making his way to the train and praying that he could still make decent arrival time. Thank god Azuki was a saint, she would surly forgive him.

The train ride seemed to take an abnormally long time, crawling along from platform to platform and allowing Mashiro's thoughts to continue to flit from one memory of Shujin to the other as he tried to calm himself down. He recalled the month where he and Takagi had split, barely talking to each other as they each wrote their own names in their own environment, trying to remain standing without the crutch they had always known, it soon became apparent to Mashiro that his old partner was better at that then him and the artist had shed a few tears when the idea had finally set in hours later when he had returned to his home.

Saiko wondered, if that was what it was like without Takagi, his partner, for a month, how would it feel to lose his girlfriend forever? He steeled at the though, perhaps Shujin was right, she could just want to talk about modifying their promise. After all, Azuki was getting rather famous and Ashirogi Muto seemed to be stuck in the same rut, always able to wedge their foot in the door but still allowing it to be slammed in their faces sooner or later. He sighed, pondering on whether or not he could even make a living with what they were doing currently. Shujin seemed to be holding up just fine, his house with Miyoshi looking just as modern as other apartments he had visited, but the blonde was also more economically aware than he was, Shujin was also having a little bit of help from both his own, and Miyoshi's parents. Mashiro couldn't ask for such things, especially with his grandfather still helping with the rent on their studio.

By the time Mashiro arrived he had come to the conclusion that Azuki was going to break up with him for one of the producers airing Eiji's anime for the soul fact that he could provide for her and had already accomplished his dream. After all, she was smarter than she made herself out to be.

"Mashiro-kun!" called a shy voice from not too far away, catching the artist's attention and coaxing him over to it's owner.

"Azu…ki." He managed in return, not knowing what else to say and feeling as dumb as always now that he was in her presence and couldn't say anything more than he had the last time they had met face-to-face.

"I was afraid you wouldn't show."

His eyes drifted to the clock set up not too far away and groaned, nearly an hour late, it was amazing that Akuzi was his angel, that she would be so willing to wait for him this long and to even skip out on their promise to do so. The artist steeled, remembering the reason that he was there in the first place. "I'm sorry, Takagi and I ended up sleeping in late because our manuscript is done."

Azuki quirked her eyebrow, trying to stifle a small chuckle from behind her hand as she realized that Mashiro still seemed to be half-asleep in front of her. "What about Miyoshi?" the girl, Azuki knew all too well, was still asleep at her house, never feeling awkward about enjoying the luxury at Miho's home.

It took Mashiro to fully comprehend what his girlfriend had said, forehead creasing as he thought a little harder, eyebrows flying up in understanding not long after, realizing that he had slept over at his friend's house, his _married_ friend's house, without his wife to be seen. He remembered Takagi assuring him of something to do with her, but most of last night had been blurry and incoherent for him and he was in no shape to be piecing it together now.

Miho giggled, catching Mashiro's attention again, deciding to drop the teasing questions, after all just the fact that they were meeting was serious business, no matter how fun it was to tease the bluenette. "She's sleeping at my house, it's fine."

That's what it was!

"How about we go to a café not far from here?" she continued on, remembering the café her younger sister had mentioned, one she had found with her friends a little while back, one of the reason's she had chosen this station at all.

Azuki waited for the artist's approving nod before starting off, walking right beside the male, the embarrassment flooding to her cheeks, she could never get used to something as intimate as walking like this with a man, even though she had played a part (no matter how menial) in St. Visual Girl's Academy, obviously a role of a girl being in loved with her superior, that confession seemed easier then the task at hand. This thought seemed weird to Azuki as she realized that her confession was forever immortalized on television and the Internet and other such public displays, while this was staying between two people who have barely seen each other since High School.

Mashiro, himself was looking away, feeling just as awkward by this turn of events, not having realized fully that seeing Azuki meant more than sitting in a hospital room while he drew or holding hands as he rode the train with her for a short while. He bit his lip, neither of them saying a word as they made their way down the street to the café Azuki had mentioned. Mashiro looked down at his swinging hand, the other wedged deep into a sweater he had borrowed from Takagi that morning, and noticed its close proximity with Azuki's. He looked up to her, embarrassed and oblivious to his thoughts of whether or not he could effectively grab it without making heir situation tenser. The artist held his breath, swinging forward his hand and it ran into hers, he felt the immediate reaction of recoil but folded his hand around hers before it could get to far. Caramel eyes turned to face him fully, tears starting to well within them, Azuki's mouth open to say something. Mashiro quickly dropped her hand, looking away quickly – unable to watch the woman he loved be in pain – and mumbled a hurried apology. He chanced a glance upward and saw her nod, not looking at him either, before she turned and continued to walk towards their destination, the situation definitely more awkward now.

When the building came into view Mashiro sent up a silent prayer, thanking whatever would listen that it was just a normal café where they could safely sit and have a normal conversation. The artist was suddenly reminded of the time when he and Takagi had trailed their editor and wound up seeing the exchange between him and Iwase, and had to turn around just to make sure the blonde wasn't doing the same here; a menial and childishly fleeting thought, but one that he couldn't really stop.

They entered the building, Mashiro being sure to take the seat facing the door, constantly glancing at it in an attempt to see Takagi sneaking through it to spy on them. It felt rude as they both sat there, fidgeting nervously, but the bluenette couldn't help but hope that his friend would saunter in to save him from this conversation.

"So…" Azuki started.

"Um…" Mashiro tried awkwardly at the exact same time.

Both teens stopped, looking up at one another with matching flushes then quickly averting their gaze. Mashiro bit his lip as Azuki fiddled with the cuffs of her shirt.

"You go first." Azuki offered, shaking her head to snap herself out of the stacking awkwardness that was permeating the air.

Mashiro shook his head in response; it wasn't as if he actually had anything to say. Everything he wanted to say and everything that was acceptable was just piling into his throat, the dam waiting for the reason he was here to break and let everything go. "No, you go." Wormed its way through.

Azuki was able to open her mouth, sound just starting to exit when their server came by.

"Hi! What can I get you two?" she smiled, her orange hair falling in curls down onto her boobs and Mashiro looked quickly away; he didn't want Azuki to get the wrong idea after all.

The artist fumbled with his menu, not knowing anything on it, and quickly flipped to the drink section.

"May I have some black tea?" Azuki asked, figuring that she could give Mashiro even a little bit of time as he stuttered over the menu.

The waitress nodded, scribbling down an abbreviated form of the order onto her notepad before turning to Mashiro, her boobs bouncing with the action. Sadly, the bluenette caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and scrambled to close his menu, not meeting her eye as he passed her the manu. "I…I'll have the…same." He choked, chancing a glance as he heard her laugh before nodded, writing something else down, and walking away with a click of her heels. He hadn't even heard what Azuki had ordered!

Azuki giggled, looking at Mashiro as he tried to burn the image of their table into his retinas.

The artist looked up, taking this as a safe sign that Azuki either hadn't noticed his wandering gaze or that she was amused by it, after all, it was rather childish.

"So?" he started, looking up at her from where he was bent low over the table.

She stifled her tinkling laugh, her expression changing to a more somber look. "Mashiro." He straightened himself back up at his name, the two of them sitting stalk-still in the clamoring café, both blocking out the cacophony of sound around them. "We've known each other for a long time."

Mashiro nodded, this was true even if they hadn't spoken they had both been in each other's presence since childhood and had been crushing on each other for that amount of time.

"We have secretly harbored feelings for each other for nearly as long."

He nodded again, encouraging her as he knew where this was going, she wanted to actually start to date, not give up on their dreams, not marry yet, just go out once in awhile when he was free, just like this. Mashiro could picture it now; maybe this café would become their place? Their thing? He had to force a smile from his face.

"As of now we have made a promise to get married after our dreams come true, after I voice act as the heroine in your anime. I have even turned down an offer for a leading role because of this."

Mashiro still felt horrible about that, it was almost as if he was sabotaging Azuki's career for his own selfish reasons. Still he just nodded, not really knowing what else to do.

"And now, we aren't even seeing each other until that day, not dating just messaging each other as we go through school and work, encouraging one another and being a motivating factor, a goal to reach."

The artist was leaning forward now, bobbing his head nearly to every word in anticipation, he _knew_ what was coming! Shujin had been right!

"But-" Azuki continued, not really looking at Mashiro anymore.

It didn't matter though, the mangaka opened his mouth, fingers curled around the edge of the table, and knuckles white as he tried to keep the damn closed, apparently the build up was too much for as Azuki kept on talking he blurted out words too.

"We should start going out on dates."

"We should stop this thing between us."

A/N: Sorry, I know that what people hate most after a hiatus is a lengthy author note, but besides my apologies over my little MIA status (something that still hasn't been cleared up with my other fanfictions…) I realize that I do two things that tend to annoy some people, no one has mentioned it, but I am particularly curious.

The first thing I seem to do quite a lot is interchange character name's/descriptions to address them, the three main one's I use are generally their original name, nick name, then hair colour. Annoying?

Second. I seem to ramble a lot, especially when writing for this fandom because I can't seem to stop their thoughts. Takagi is very analytical and Mashiro very factually realistic, Azuki (though we don't seem too much of her) is smarter than she appears and obviously puts thought into things unless she is overly upset, but even then she likes to play it safe. Is this whole thought concentration too much or do you want me to just start cutting to the chase without so many expositional thoughts that the plot has to muddle through?

If you could give me your views on these two things (and anything you have to critique the story with actually) that would be fantastic, would make my night even. All the best, until my next installment, already finished, but I need time to beta (hopefully it will be up sooner than this one was).

-WAC


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